Secret Tears
by Midnight Rain
Summary: What it means to lose you, no one can ever know. Draco reflects on his loss of Hermione as he stumbles into insanity.


Disclaimer: I do not own Harry P. Also, this story has a slightly demented Draco Malfoy. If you don't think you will enjoy that, then hit the back button. However, if you like seeing Draco destroyed by love, read on.

**Secret Tears**

_-My heart still aches in sadness and secret tears still flow. What it means to lose you, no one can ever know.- _

Draco Malfoy was a wreck as he paced back and forth at the end of his bed. He appeared as if he hadn't shaved in days. His unwashed hair stuck out at odd ends from the constant attention it was getting from Draco's nervous hands.

It wasn't supposed to be this way.

After everything he did, all the attention he gave her, she shouldn't, _couldn't, _leave him this way.

It was impossible that any woman could just toss _Draco Malfoy _aside as if he was a used plaything. Draco scanned the empty room, eyes flashing a hideous shade of silver. He trudged across his floor; hands wearing thin the cuffs of his flannel shirt.

He had lavished her with gifts, buried her under constant affection. Did he love her away from him?

A single maddened tear streaked down his face followed by a moaning wail. He collapsed to his knees, hands gripping his face with torment.

With each gasping breath, he felt as if his heart would burst from his chest. Or perhaps it had already burst? After all, he didn't feel it anymore.

Draco raised his head, focusing on his reflection in the full-length mirror. Behind him, he could see the cheery atmosphere of his bedroom of the previous Sunday afternoon. Hermione skipped across the floor, white summer dress floating about her. "Are you ready, Draco? The Garden Party will be starting any minute. We're going to be late."

Draco turned quickly, fumbling to grasp the vibrant girl. However, the image faded, leaving only the tomb of his darkened bedroom. For a moment, he thought he could still smell the scent of the lavender perfume that she had donned that day.

Draco knew, without a doubt, that whatever a Malfoy did it was done wholeheartedly. Draco loved Hermione to an extent he thought he would never love anyone. It didn't matter that she was Mudblood or unpure. After all, with his father, died all of his father's beliefs.

However, on the other hand, if a Malfoy mourned or grieved, it was with their whole being. Every cell in his body ached for hers. He could feel her in places where he thought no one could touch.

Jerking to his feet, Draco wiped furiously at his tear-stained face. "I will not let a woman ruin me like this. I am a Malfoy."

-

Hermione hummed softly to herself as she pulled the chocolate-chip cookies from the oven. Inhaling their deliciously sweet smell, she laid the cookie sheet onto the stove. With a smile, she left them there, moving over to her refrigerator to fetch the milk.

She felt as if a weight had been lifted from her. Three days ago, she had left Draco in his cold mansion. Though she believed he loved her, she knew the relationship would never work. She had felt herself changing inside his stony house. She had sworn long ago that she would change herself for no man- not even Draco.

However, Draco didn't understand her pleas or her desperate cries. He lavished her with fine silk and carted her around to all those elegant parties as if she was a trophy. Finally, Hermione put an end to it the only way she knew how- with a goodbye.

Sighing, she replaced the milk. Turning around to retrieve a cookie, she froze. The glass slipped from between her fingertips and shattered on the tile floor.

Across the bar, standing in her living room, was a silver-eyed devil. Draco shook with rage as he focused in on her, "Well, you're just a regular old cook, aren't you? Expecting anyone?" As soon as the question flitted from his mouth, maniacal laughter followed suit. "Bet it wasn't me, was it?"

Draco smirked, taking a shaky step toward her. "I've missed you."

"Malfoy-"

"Oh, so we're back to these distant surnames. You weren't screaming out my last name when-"

"Draco Malfoy, did you come her just to taunt me? If you don't leave, I'm going to have to call the Ministry." Hermione was backing toward the counter, fingertips itching to wrap around her wand. She saw it lying there, just out of reach.

"I don't think so. _Accio _wand." Hermione's wand flew from the counter and into Draco's outstretched hand. "You shouldn't have broken me so, Hermione." Hermione thought she saw a tear trickled down from his cheek.

She gasped with horror as he raised a wavering arm, his own wand shaking in his grasp. "I loved you completely. You just don't understand. I told you I could never live without you."

Hermione's eyes widened, "No Draco!" She held up her hands as if to shield her body. All she could see were his tormented eyes over the ridge of her arm. They seemed to scream in pain, cursing her. She heard the words tumble from his mouth, "_Avada Kedavra." _

And then nothing.

**Author's note: Uh oh, did Draco murder her or commit suicide? I do wonder. Don't you just hate those cliffhangers?**

**Now, for some horrible self-advertising. If you liked this story, I'm working on another one called Forgive Me Father. It's more of a romance instead of a tragedy. Check it out. I'm not getting too many reviews and I'd love to hear more feedback on it. Thanks. **


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